This told de Wolfe nothing he wanted to know. 'But what about the man himself? Is he honest and to be trusted?'
Roger Watts gave a hollow laugh. 'Who can tell that, Sir John? I hope I am honest, though I admit I do not shed tears if the tally-man happens to forget a few casks or bales now and then. Martin Rof has a reputation for being even more forgetful about paying his Customs dues, but few would hold that against him.'
Aware of his own vulnerability in that regard, John did not pursue the issue. 'Is anything else known about him? This lad who was slain was a member of his crew, though admittedly the killing occurred after the cog berthed in Axmouth.'
Roger shrugged. 'Knowing nothing of the matter, I can't venture to say. But why would he be involved in the death of one of his own men? I admit I've sometimes wanted to slay some useless sod in my crew, but I've never actually done it!'
He tried to inject some levity into the talk, but it fell flat with de Wolfe.
'The Keeper mentioned piracy along these coasts,' growled the coroner. 'What do you know of that?'
Again Roger Watts looked uncomfortable, not that he had any fear of being branded a pirate himself, but seafarers — like tinners — stuck together and were reluctant to tell tales to law officers.
'There is no doubt that attacks and pillaging and killing go on out at sea,' he admitted, squirming a little on his bench. 'But these are almost all down to bastards from either Brittany or the French coast, some of whom claim to be at war with England.'
Hilda, who had been listening attentively, broke in again. 'I recall Thorgils saying that vessels from the far south — Spain and even the Middle Sea — used to come ravaging into the Channel and as far as the Severn Sea. He told me how he had once outsailed an oared galley that must have come from the Barbary Coast.'
John nodded. 'I remember that story of his,' he said gently. 'He was always one for a good tale. You must miss his company, Hilda.'
She inclined her head but smiled sadly. 'He was a good and kind man. He did not deserve the fate that took him from me. Like all wives of shipmen, I always expected to hear of his loss from storm and shipwreck, but not murder!'
'That was piracy, by foreign devils,' agreed de Wolfe. 'But I have heard of some home-grown pirates in these waters. Is that so, Roger?'
The shipmaster decided he could stall no longer. 'It is, unfortunately. The men from Lyme have the worst reputation, but Dorset was always a barbarous place. Though most of us are concerned only with the safe delivery of our cargoes, some vessels prey on others, may God rot their souls on Judgment Day!'
'Is it known who indulge themselves in this murderous business?' demanded the coroner.
Roger Watts shook his head. 'Who is to know what goes on once out of sight of land?' he said warily. 'It is legal and indeed to be commended if an English ship attacks a Frenchie, given that there is a state of war between us most of the time. Those bastards are quick enough to pillage our vessels.'
'Yet there are widows and fatherless children in this port for whom English shipmen are said to be responsible!' cut in Hilda, her lovely face set with concern. She was well known for her generosity to the families of men lost at sea.
'We certainly hear tales that suggest that is true,' answered Watts. 'But how can it be proven? A pirate must kill every crewman on the stricken ship if he is to avoid retribution. And the vessel must be scuttled after the cargo is seized, to remove all traces of the crime.'
De Wolfe scowled at this apparent impasse. 'Do the rumours of piracy involve Axmouth?' he snapped. 'And does this Martin Rof's name ever crop up in discussion of the problem?'
Roger shrugged hopelessly. This was a conversation in which he would rather not take part. 'I've heard nothing, Crowner — but any man who bandies about the name of a supposed pirate is asking for a sudden death!'
John fixed him with his brooding eyes. 'And a sudden death is exactly what I am concerned about in Axmouth!' he growled.
After the master of the St Radegund had thankfully made his escape from the coroner's interrogation, John was left alone with Hilda. The little maid Alice had hung about the doorway but was sent packing by her mistress, who felt she needed no chaperone now, especially with a man with whom she had lain intermittently since they were youngsters rolling in the hayloft in Holcombe.
As soon as Alice had gone downstairs, he took Hilda into his arms and kissed her languorously, somehow being able to assure himself that this was merely brotherly affection. Eventually, she managed to draw breath and pushed him away gently, sitting down again on her chair and pointing him to the bench.
'And how is Nesta?' she asked pointedly, though with a smile that told him she was teasing. Mentally throwing the little devil of temptation from his shoulder, John said she was very well, though in fact he had seen little of his Welsh mistress these past few weeks, as a succession of deaths and court cases had kept him out of Exeter more than usual.
Evading the subject, though Hilda and Nesta had met a number of times and enjoyed each other's company, he made solicitous enquiries about Hilda's health and happiness.
Though he had cuckolded Thorgils for years, he had been very discreet about it and came to Hilda only when the older man was away on his voyages. He wondered now what the blonde beauty would do, as she was still comparatively young and, having inherited her husband's house, treasure chest and his three ships, was a rich enough widow to attract many suitors. Though her origins were humble enough, as the daughter of a manor-reeve, her marriage to a well-known and affluent ship owner now lifted her many rungs up the social ladder.
'I have no plans, John. I am content for now to live in this fine house. I attend the church diligently and spend much time with the families of those shipmen who died with Thorgils in the Mary and Child Jesus.'
The ship had been repaired after being wrecked and now formed part of the trio of vessels that Hilda had brought to John and Hugh de Relaga's partnership. De Wolfe was curiously relieved to hear that she was in no hurry to find a new husband, even though he had no thoughts of taking up with her again. At least, he firmly suppressed such thoughts, even though the nearness of such an attractive woman gnawed away at his self-control. They talked away pleasantly for some time, finishing the wine and pastries, until John reluctantly felt that he should drag Gwyn from the alehouse and make their way down to see his mother at Stoke-in-Teignhead. With a final hug and a long kiss, he broke away and, with a promise to see her again soon, left in a slight daze of amorous longing. As he loped back to the tavern, he had a rare moment of introspection, wondering how such a hard bastard as himself, veteran of years of campaigning, could become so soft and sentimental over women — or, to be more exact, two particular women.
CHAPTER FOUR
John de Wolfe did not in fact get to see his family at their home manor that day. When he reached the alehouse, he found — wonder of wonders — Gwyn standing outside, staring at the small estuary where the stream poured out across the beach into the sea. The tide was now right out and the vessels were high and dry, tilted over slightly on their flat keels. He realised from the low water that he had been with Hilda much longer than he had anticipated.
'We could easily get across the ford at Teignmouth,' said his officer. 'But we'll not get back again! By the time you reach Stoke and have a decent talk to your kin there, the tide will be in full flood on the return journey. We'd never reach Exeter before curfew.'
There was no argument with this, as it would take too long to go up the Teign on the other bank to the first bridge and then find the inland road back to the city. Resignedly, John went with Gwyn to get their horses and soon they were back on the road. This time they avoided Kenton and went over the marshes to the ferry, where they and their horses were carried across the Exe to Topsham on what was little better than a large raft. They reached Exeter's South Gate much earlier than John had expected, and rode straight up to the castle, where de Wolfe decided to call on the sheriff and bring him up to date on events.